


Wasting Time

by RomanceOnExpress



Series: Crossovers Nobody Asked For [1]
Category: Call of Duty, modern warfare, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:52:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanceOnExpress/pseuds/RomanceOnExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuronue's dead. Has been for a long time. Riley, on the other hand, has just become a true ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasting Time

**Author's Note:**

> Gift-fic for askghostlykuronue on tumblr.

The bat demon sat at the lonely counter, reading up on the humans’ daily news. More wars, more deaths, an alert for a rouge company. He paused, wishing he could enjoy the alcohol behind the unattended bar as he read. Not like the humans would miss it…

His ears picked up the sound of wind rustling unnaturally in the building. Another lost soul looking for some peace. Not long after, the human came in. Still wearing the wounds he died with, his jacket was a mix of camouflage and blood, his pants equally dirty. A painted mask covered his face as a skull – out of intimidation or preference, Kuronue couldn’t say. Regardless, he was a fresh ghost, just popped out of his body. Poor sap.

The human stopped as he spotted the demon, no doubt startled by the wings, possibly by his presence. Knowing he’ll get over it, Kuronue turned back to his paper.

“What the hell, mate?”

“Demon.”

“Huh.” He eased himself onto a stool next to Kuronue’s. “Many of you around?”

“Naw, not enough portals.” He eyed the man again as he stripped off his mask. “Not enough of us ghosts either.” Dark eyes and copper hair. Not a bad looker.

“Figured that’s what this is. Ghost, eh?” he chuckled at some unknown joke.

The bat smirked, tipped his hat as the man’s humour subsided. “Name’s Kuronue.”

“That’s a mouthful. Simon. Simon Riley.”

“Simon,” he shook the outstretched hand offered to him. “Welcome to death.”

“It’s a lot more calm and cheery than I thought.” Simon glanced at the well-stocked bar now, wistful. “No heaven or hell?”

“Only for the ones who get caught dying. Grim reaper mustn’t of been looking your way.”

“Hm.” His eyes turned back to Kuronue. “So other than not being able to do fuck all about anything, this is it? Just,” he waved a gloved hand at the paper in front of the bat, “this?”

“Mhm. Bout it,” he turned a page.

Simon stared at his hand. “Now how’d you do that?”

“Be dead long enough, and you’ll learn.”

The man eyed him up again, not unlike how Kuronue had done earlier. He didn’t say anything else though, didn’t ask how he died, where his wounds where. He didn’t answer either.

So they settled like that, Simon leaning on the counter, testing his ability, wondering at his current predicament. And Kuronue continued to read the paper and wish for a stiff drink.


End file.
